


Practicing

by TheTetrarch



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 08:31:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTetrarch/pseuds/TheTetrarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Spine and his wish to be human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practicing

The Spine spent quite a bit of his spare time practicing.

Not just practicing playing music, or practicing with the rest of the members of the band, making sure everything and everyone was … oh, what was it humans said … oh yes – making sure everyone was 'on the same page.' Such a silly saying. But he secretly liked it because it was … well … so _human_.

And that was one of the reasons The Spine liked to practice. He liked to practice _being human_.

He had a full-length good-quality mirror in his room, and whenever he could, he would slip away to do some furtive practicing.

He always made sure Rabbit and HatchWorth were tucked up in front of the television (usually with a scattering of HatchWorth's Best Select Sammiches around them on the big sofa), and checked that their humans were off Doing Something Not Connected With Robots – which meant not having to fix robots, stop robots from stuffing toasters with marshmallows, put out fires begun by robots, settle bickering between robots (usually begun by a copper robot) and cleaning up after robots, which usually meant Steve hauling out their huge industrial cleaning kit and a hazmat suit, baring his teeth and yelling "BOOYAH!" with piratical relish before leaping into the fray.

Well, today was one of those hassle-free days. Steve was happily perforating poor defenceless stuffed toys (but not Lil' Steve, who certainly _wasn't_ defenceless) as he practiced his archery, Michael was ironing his collection of purple teeshirts, and poor Matt was still recovering from a plethora of fangirly squealing attention at his first Steam Powered Giraffe concert. He was lying down in a darkened room (he'd finally found one with a door that didn't have something scary, otherworldy or Peter Walter VI behind it) and trying to get his head around it all. He still couldn't stop shaking.

So … The Spine settled down in front of his beautiful, minimalist mirror and thought about being human.

Some days he worked on his walk, which was a forceful, striding pace. It needed some work, to be sure, but in general it wasn't too bad. On other days he worked on his posture, which was generally good, and the fans did love to talk about his long legs – one of his good points, he decided. They didn't notice the odd way he would point at things … arm stretched rigid and elbow locked, he knew it looked peculiar. He'd have to work on that.

But today, he was concentrating on the thing that bugged him most – his smile.

Hmmm.

He certainly had the eyebrow thing down to a 'T'. A neat, arching raise of one eyebrow, coupled with what he liked to think was a mysterious, quirky smile. It certainly charmed the ladies.

He raised his eyebrow just to make sure it was as effective as he thought it was. Yep. It was perfect.

His smile though … it was more often than not a bit of a problem. If he tried too hard, it came out as a threatening thin line of black in his angular face, or if he showed his teeth he thought he looked as though he was about to bite, even though he would never do such a terrible thing. He was, after all, not programmed to bite. _Ever_.

So he tended just to stick with the mysterious smile.

He spent some time twisting his lips into various grins, smirks and what ended up being grimaces, but it just didn't work. No matter which way he looked at it, he was scary. And it was obvious that even if he was in human makeup, he just didn't look right. He looked _weird_.

"Oh, what's the use …" he muttered to himself, and began to turn away, utterly disheartened. How long had he been doing this? 116 years. A damn' long time trying to appear human.

Sighing, he bent down to his little side table and picked up his fedora, settling it on his head.

"Spine? Are you there?" a soft voice called from along the corridor. A rap came on the door jamb, and Walter Girl Brianna popped her head into his room. "Spine? It's such a sunny day we thought we'd all go for a picnic. It's cold, but if we wrap up warm it'll be okay. Wanna come?"

The Spine gazed into pretty eyes and touched the brim of his hat politely. He decided anything was better than standing in front of that blasted mirror and feeling … _not human_.

"That sounds nice, Miss Brianna. I'd enjoy that." He smiled his (hopefully) mysterious smile.

"Oh good!" she giggled, raising her hand to pat him on the chest, a gesture he found all the more charming because she did it with such a lack of guile. "C'mon – Hatchy's made lots of food, and it'll be fun." And with that she turned on her heels and was gone.

The Spine stood still for a moment, amused. She was such a sweet girl and he liked her a lot. He felt a bit better, and reaching out, he lifted a heavy winter coat off a hook beside the doorway and turned to put it on. In doing so, he caught a glimpse of himself in his mirror.

And there it was.

Gazing back at him was a lean, handsome face with a warm, wide smile and green optics that shone with humour, lighting up his austere features. It was a living face … a face that had character, depth and wisdom … a face he had never seen before.

A human face, silver metal though it obviously was.

"Huh," he said.

He had been practicing for 116 years, and never managed to look like that. And all it took was a pretty girl with lovely eyes, patting him on the chest and loving him for who and what he was. Perhaps he should stop with the practicing and spend more time with his brothers and the rest of the band. _And Miss Brianna_ , he thought shyly.

And with the decision made, The Spine walked out of his room to join his family.

 

FINIS


End file.
